


tease a little more

by Nebbles



Series: Felix rarepair week 2021 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sparring, What if sparring made you horny?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebbles/pseuds/Nebbles
Summary: “And I believe I have won this little match of ours.” The sword is abandoned yet again as it’s tossed to the side. “May I claim my prize?”His eyes widen slightly, face deep red. They’re going to—in the training grounds—there’s no way. Ferdinand would’ve had to plan ahead. ...Did he?“I do not mind making the trip to our quarters, if that is what you desire,” he continues, “but if you desire to stay here, I have quite the idea for us.”---------A late night sparring match between Felix and Ferdinand ends up getting a little... handsy, and the pair decides to let that take its course.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Felix rarepair week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134791
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Felix Rarepair Week 2021





	tease a little more

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just need to write something very self-indulgent, and I think these two deserve to have a little fun in the training grounds.
> 
> For day 3 of Felix rarepair week: Competition+Hair.

Sleeplessness is common during war, with soldiers too worried what looms over the horizon to find the rest they need to fight another day. Many cope with this ordeal in different ways, taking walks among the silent monastery grounds, enjoying a cup of tea in silence, or simply watching the stars go by. Levity is rare in these moments in the lulls between battles, and it’s often advised to rest when one can.

Felix, however, doesn’t agree with this ideology one bit. 

It’s pointless to sit around if rest doesn’t come to you, and pretending you aren’t stressed is a fool’s errand. He’s not working himself to exhaustion, and neither is Ferdinand as the pair enters another round of combat for the night.

“I believe we are tied, Felix.” He pushes some hair behind his hair that’s fallen loose from his ponytail. “And I intend to tip the scales in my favor.”

“I plan on taking this bout.” His own hair is a bit of a mess, as he hasn’t gone to tie it up. “You may have gotten a few wins against me, but it ends here.”

The confident smile Ferdinand gives is far more attractive than Felix should find it. “We shall see about that.”

Ferdinand’s confidence matches up to his skills, much to Felix’s appreciation. He never misses a beat, his stances strong as ever—and to his he’s as deft with a sword as a lance. Felix believes there isn’t a weapon in Fodlan that Ferdinand can’t wield with ease, and it does nothing but make the other more appealing. It’s hard to remember the last time he’s enjoyed a sparring partner like this, and maybe he hasn’t had that before Ferdinand.

He instills a drive in Felix like no other, a drive to push himself to be stronger, faster,  _ better.  _ It’s easy to lose himself in their matches, the pair never holding back in stoking the flames of competition. 

It also helps that Ferdinand is insanely attractive in the heat of battle. He’s a mixture of graceful and unruly, long hair swirling behind him like fire as he pivots on his heels. His eyes are just as vivid, energy and determination present among bright amber. There’s more to say, he’s sure, but Felix has never been one for words. Really, it’s just easier to say Ferdinand gives him feelings that tend to err on the inappropriate side during their sparring matches.

However, this never distracts Felix. In a way, it provides his own fire, one they’ve often brought to a full flame when in the privacy of their quarters. Leave it to them to associate sparring with  _ that,  _ of all things, but neither man seems to mind. Given how often it follows their matches, it incentivizes them to train harder. Is it ridiculous? Absolutely, but Felix has grown to appreciate the way they reward their competitive nature.

Just as fast as he’s disarmed, Felix finds his back against the floor of the training grounds, chest heaving as he looks up towards Ferdinand. He’s bracing his knees against Felix’s side, a confident grin on his face, eyes lidded, tilting Felix’s chin upwards with the tip of the dulled sword. Ferdinand’s hair has completely fallen out of its ponytail by now, pouring over his shoulders, bangs clinging to his forehead with sweat. He’s breathing heavily as well, other hand pinning Felix’s wrist down. 

“Shall I call the match?” Ferdinand taps the sword against the underside of Felix’s chin. “I believe you have no moves left.”

Felix’s throat, frustratingly, is rather dry. Thus, he can’t manage an answer at the moment, face red for a multitude of reasons. Most of them culminate in the fact Ferdinand is on top of him, offering him quite the gaze. He’s not about to hand over victory so easily, but his mind isn’t working the longer they make eye contact. For all the struggles he’s shared before, Felix finds that he cannot look away.

He decides he’s going to wipe that smug look off Ferdinand’s face, and not in a way he expects. 

His free hand reaches up to grip onto that soft, sunset orange hair and he  _ pulls.  _

“Ah-!” That’s the noise he wants. Ferdinand’s breath hitches in a way that begs Felix to tug on his hair once more. “Felix—”

“Drop the sword and kiss me.” He’s remembered how to use his words, however briefly. 

By the look on Ferdinand’s face, it’s clear Felix’s message reads loud and clear. The dulled sword falls to the side as he leans down to bring their lips together, their kiss hungry and full of desire. Soft whines are breathed against him, Ferdinand’s tongue swiping against Felix’s lower lip. He has no issue parting them for the other, giving his own noise in reply as Ferdinand licks into his mouth.

It seems they aren’t going to make it off the training grounds this time, but perhaps that’s part of the thrill. 

“Our match is not over quite yet, I would wager,” Ferdinand’s free hand drifts down Felix’s chest, “I believe there is still a winner to declare.”

Felix is never going to understand where or how Ferdinand learned to talk like this, but he’s never going to complain. “I don’t intend on losing.”

“Neither do I.” Ferdinand shifts one of his legs between Felix’s thighs. “As you can see, I am still on top of you, and I am rather enjoying the view.”

“Mine’s not bad either.” He’s eyeing the exposed skin on Ferdinand’s neck. 

He tugs Ferdinand into another kiss, not hesitating to meet his tongue once more. Eager to hear those noises again, the hand woven into Ferdinand’s hair gives a harsher tug, causing a moan to be breathed into his mouth (and Goddess, that’s hot). It’s hard to say who’s more emboldened by this sound, and Felix is almost willing to say it’s Ferdinand by the way his tongue happens to be shoved down his throat. When they part, a thin strand of saliva connects their lips, cheeks awash with flush.

Before Felix has a chance to do anything else, Ferdinand’s hand makes its way to his hair. “Let me return the favor, darling.” He’s more than glad to give a tug of his own, eagerly mouthing down Felix’s neck.

“You-” Fuck, that’s good. Ferdinand’s lips are incredibly soft and warm. It’s one thing to drown in that sensation, and another to feel him bite. “Nngh—”

“Yes?” Those lips ghost over the hickey he’s now left. “Whatever is it?” He presses his knee further against Felix.

“I’m not letting you win that easily.” With another sharp tug of Ferdinand’s hair, Felix manages to flip the other onto his back. “You’ll have to try harder.”

“I always welcome a challenge from you.” It’s said in nearly a purr. “But you know I never back down.”

“Likewise.” It’s Felix’s turn to leave a mark on Ferdinand’s neck, grip tight on his wrists. He’s not particularly sure if this counts as sparring anymore, but whatever. It feels good, and that’s about the only thing running through his mind.

There’s a dazed, pleasant expression on the other’s face. Felix knows his wind of opportunity is short, and quickly releases his grip to fetch the wooden sword. He wants to return the earlier gesture to Ferdinand, lifting his chin by its tip, warming him with a hungry gaze. It’s more than clear how this session is going to end, and he may as well spur him on before the pair returns to their quarters.

...Or at least, that’s what Felix thinks before he’s quickly pushed against the wall. The sword is in Ferdinand’s hold once more, pressed between their chests as one of Felix’s arms is held behind his back. They’re both breathless, panting as heat lies between their shared gazes.

“You… you’re playing dirty,” Felix manages. He’s not going to mention he started this by pulling on Ferdinand’s hair.

“I thought that was something we both enjoyed, my love,” Ferdinand whispers, “am I wrong in that regard?”

Felix tries to think of a reply, and fails. With the way Ferdinand’s looking at him, his mind is somewhere else.

“And I believe I have won this little match of ours.” The sword is abandoned yet again as it’s tossed to the side. “May I claim my prize?”

His eyes widen slightly, face deep red. They’re going to—in the training grounds—there’s  _ no way _ . Ferdinand would’ve had to plan ahead. ...Did he?

“I do not mind making the trip to our quarters, if that is what you desire,” he continues, “but if you desire to stay here, I have quite the idea for us.”

Felix bites at his lip, mind already clouded with thoughts of  _ Ferdinand, Ferdinand, Ferdinand.  _ There’s further thrill to be had here, risking getting caught, doing something in the training grounds they definitely shouldn’t be getting up to. It’s sounding more appealing by the moment, and Felix isn’t about to deny either of them from enjoying this. He’s glad to give his answer in the form of capturing Ferdinand’s lips in another kiss of theirs, hungrier than ever.

Ferdinand’s hand travels down Felix’s chest once more, not shy in groping at whatever muscle he finds. He’s quick to station his knee between Felix’s thighs once more, pressing eagerly against him, which earns him a soft whine. It’s to no surprise that his hands scramble to hold onto Ferdinand’s hair once more, tugging to indicate he’d like the kisses to be deeper. 

Warm lips move to ghost down Felix’s neck yet again, nipping at the skin to dot it in further marks. Soft noises fall from his lips, heart beginning to pound in his chest with each hickey he obtains. A part of him wonders what Ferdinand intends to do, but it seems his question will be answered as those kisses trail further down his chest.

Ferdinand’s knee is replaced with his hand as he begins to kneel down, warm as ever as it rubs against the bulge forming between Felix’s legs. His knees nearly buckle, gripping harder onto Ferdinand’s hair a louder groan leaves him, eyes wrenched shut in pleasure. While he can’t see the other’s expression at the moment, Felix is sure Ferdinand is watching him with hungry eyes the further he palms into his erection.

“You feel wonderful as ever, Felix.” It’s not fair how good Ferdinand sounds right now. “May I have the honor of seeing you as well?”

_ Oh.  _ That’s what they’re doing.

“Yeah,” is all Felix can manage to reply with. 

It’s fortunate they’re both in looser, light clothes that comes with their frequent sparring sessions. Eager fingers hover over the laces of Felix’s pants, undoing them at a slow, teasing pace. Ferdinand’s eyes don’t leave him the entire while, lidded with lust. Felix could damn him for being a tease, but he’s done the same in the past. 

Once the laces are undone, Ferdinand drags down Felix’s pants to his ankles, slowly kissing up his thighs. Ferdinand’s hands rest on his hips, fingers skirting against his smallclothes (which he’s straining terribly against), ready to strip him further at a moment’s notice. As the kisses continue to travel upwards, his lips ghost over the outline of Felix’s cock, which earns a rather loud moan. It’s enough to make his mind dissolve into nothing but white noise that chant’s Ferdinand’s name in a fervent, needy whisper.

“Please,” he gasps, “Ferdinand—”

“Yes?” He’s electing mercy on poor Felix by pulling down his smallclothes. “Have you grown tired of me teasing you?”

Felix hates and loves how good he sounds when they’re like this. All he can do is swallow thickly, face red as he nods, gaze focused. Maybe he’ll remember how to speak soon enough.

Ferdinand’s lips curve into a smile as he wraps his fingers around Felix’s cock, beginning to offer warm, languid strokes. His other hand focuses on kneading small circles into his thigh with a hum, “You feel rather wonderful in my hand, dearest.”

His only response is to bury one of his hands in Ferdinand’s hair, giving a pull to show this is good, keep going, don’t  _ stop.  _ This earns a moan from Ferdinand as well, who isn’t shy to brush his thumb over the tip of Felix’s length. He’s well aware how he’s already leaking into the other’s hand, who doesn’t mind at all. If anything, it’s making the touches even sweeter.

Felix braces himself further against the wall, trying to will down the noises coming from his throat. While the thrill of doing this in public still remains, he’s not really inclined to have anyone else know what’s going on in here. He bites down on his finger, another moan forming low in his throat the more those warm, wonderful fingers brush over him.

“Your moans are so beautiful, Felix. They are perhaps my favorite song,” Ferdinand murmurs as he looks up at him, “Can you not sing for me?”

That’s—Felix barely can think, and just gives out a louder noise as the tip of his length is brushed over once more. He’s falling apart in Ferdinand’s hand, and enjoying every minute of it. 

Ferdinand’s hand rests at the base of his cock, pressing his lips against it. “May I?” Each kiss is warmer than the last.

Felix is going to die of pleasure, and he’s never welcomed it more.

A smile is flashed at him, one that sends chills down Felix’s spine. It’s one he’s seen before, but it never fails to send heat to his core. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s how to make Ferdinand all he craves and more.

“Don’t you dare go easy on me.” 

The same smile remains on his lips as he presses one last kiss to the tip of Felix’s length. Finally,  _ finally,  _ Felix is ready to drown in bliss as Ferdinand takes him into his mouth, so warm and welcoming and  _ good.  _ His tongue runs over Felix, the same teasing pace as before, savoring each moment the more he takes in. 

“F-Ferdinand—nnh—” There’s no other thoughts in his head, only white-hot pleasure and ecstasy. He bucks his hips, desiring further heat, pulling at his hair once more.

The response he earns, as one would imagine, is for Ferdinand to gladly take more of Felix into his mouth. As he bobs his head back and forth, tongue swirling over the tip of his length so slow and so good, a somewhat coherent thought works its way into Felix’s mind.

Ferdinand von Aegir looks ridiculously good with a cock in his mouth.

His own moans, however muffled, grace Felix’s ears as with each thrust of his hips. He’s going to give Ferdinand as much back as he can manage, doing nothing more than calling out his name. He continues to ground himself against the wall, a reminder of where they are, that they have to do this again, that  _ fuck  _ this feels so good and he doesn’t want it to stop.

It’s those vivacious, orange eyes that stare up at him that push Felix over the edge, barely groaning a warning before he climaxes. Ferdinand doesn’t pull away until he’s swallowed in full, licking his lips as he continues to admire Felix, kneading into his thighs once more. 

Saints, he can’t speak. Felix finds himself staring, face fully flushed, pulse still pounding in his chest, Ferdinand’s hair still wound around his fist. There’s a part of his mind that craves more, wanting nothing other than to Ferdinand to fuck him senseless. 

“Are you with me, dearest?” Ferdinand gives his thigh one last kiss before he begins to stand, acting as if he hasn’t just made Felix see stars. “Or was I perhaps that good that you simply cannot think?”

He blinks a few times, and quickly works to redress himself as his mind scrambles for an answer. Ridiculous how Ferdinand makes him forget to function at times. He could reply yes to his question, but he’s not about to give him that. 

“We’re not done yet,” he decides to say, “we’re going back to our room.”

Ferdinand looks beyond delighted. “I see no problems with spoiling you further, my love.”

He’ll be plenty sore tomorrow, but Felix doesn’t see any problems with this development.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, make sure to leave a comment/kudos! If you want to hear about future works and rambles, make sure to follow me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/that_nebbles)


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